Doctor, Doctor
by lawless523
Summary: Eiri scares Shuichi when he comes down with a lingering illness. One-shot, complete.


_**Disclaimer:**_ It's Maki Murakami's sandbox; I just play in it. I do not own the series or the rights to these characters, nor do I make any money from them. No copyright or other infringement is intended.  
_**Rating/Warnings: **_T for sexual references, disgusting descriptions of illness, and profanity  
_**Summary:**_ Eiri scares Shuichi when he comes down with a lingering illness.  
_**Word Count: **_~2,500 words, excluding introduction and author's note

Written for LiveJournal's 30_kisses themed writing challenge community. Theme: #18, "say ahh"

_**Doctor, Doctor**_

_Doctor, doctor, can't you see I'm burning, burning?  
__Oh, doctor, doctor, is this love I'm feeling?  
__--_Thompson Twins, "Doctor! Doctor!"

Shuichi was worried. He'd never seen Eiri so sick before. Sure, he had allergies, which his cigarette smoking aggravated, and a smoker's cough, but he wasn't usually this congested, nor did he usually cough up buckets of phlegm. His throat hurt so much he could barely speak at all. When he did speak, it was in a painful strangled rasp.

If someone had asked Shuichi how he'd feel about Eiri's not being able to talk, and therefore not being able to insult him, for days on end, he'd have said he'd be overjoyed, but he was heartsick now that it had actually happened. He'd give anything to hear Eiri call him names and tell him he was an idiot. The apartment they shared was decorated with piles of wadded-up tissues containing thick, disgusting mucus. Shuichi felt like he needed to put on gloves just to discard them.

Eiri's condition worried Shuichi enough to take the unusual (for him, anyway) step of calling to consult with Tohma. Shuichi was willing to make a deal with the devil himself if it would help Eiri get better.

"It's very considerate of you to be so concerned about Eiri-san's health," Tohma said in that fake-polite voice of his when he answered the phone.

"This is serious!" Shuichi almost yelled. "He can barely breathe, and I don't know what to do!"

There was a pause. When Tohma spoke again, there was a note of worry in his voice. "He can't breathe?"

"Well, he's all congested and his nose makes this weird noise and I can see snot pulsing in and out of his nostrils -- "

Tohma didn't particularly want to listen to a recitation of the grosser details of Eiri's condition, so he cut him off. "If the symptoms are no worse than a bad cold, you don't need to worry. That's not life threatening. But it sounds like he should see his doctor. Do you know who that is?"

"No. He's never gone to see a doctor other than his psychiatrist since I've lived with him, except for that time he was in the hospital, and then he was being cared for by a specialist whose name I don't know anyway. I don't know who his internist or general practitioner or whatever is."

"I think his name is Dr. Masumoto, but you should check with Eiri-san."

"He's doesn't much like to talk about such things."

"Better that you deal with it, then! Good night, and good luck."

* * *

It turned out that Eiri's doctor's name was Morimoto, not Masumoto, as Tohma had thought. It made Shuichi oddly happy that Tohma's recollection of Eiri's doctor's name was faulty. He took it as a sign that Tohma didn't know as much about Eiri as he thought he did.

Getting to Dr. Morimoto's was even more of a pain than Shuichi had expected. Eiri was in no shape to drive, although he still tried to argue the point, only giving up when he went on a coughing jag. Shuichi pointed out that it would be difficult to drive a stick shift through Tokyo traffic if he was doubled over coughing like he was now.

Since Shuichi didn't drive, that left taking a taxi. Public transportation wasn't an option given their fame and Eiri's condition; Shuichi was afraid Eiri would infect everyone around him if he so much as breathed on them. He'd also considered having someone from NG drive them, but since plastic dividers separated Tokyo taxi drivers and their passengers and drivers meticulously cleaned their vehicles between fares, taking a taxi would be more sanitary than taking a company limousine would be.

Shuichi thought he'd asked the taxi driver to show up soon enough to get them to the appointment on time, but he hadn't reckoned with the vagaries of Tokyo traffic. Shuichi fumed while they sat in traffic; he could see the time of Eiri's appointment approaching closer and closer on the dashboard clock. Eiri, for his part, was tired and out of it enough not to be paying attention to much of anything. He gazed blearily out of the left-hand window.

Shuichi was beginning to consider getting out and walking, though it would be harder on Eiri than the taxi ride, when he heard the squeal of brakes next to him. His heart started beating faster when he realized that another vehicle had come within centimeters of sideswiping them. While scared, he was grateful that it had threatened the side of the cab where he was sitting and not where Eiri was. He didn't need Eiri to be injured on top of being ill.

The cab driver grunted and said, "Idiot," as the offending vehicle swerved and sped away. Eiri was still glazed over and acted as if he hadn't noticed that anything was amiss, which was as good an indication as any that something was seriously wrong with him. Shuichi was certain that if he'd been feeling better, Eiri would have been cursing and giving the driver of the vehicle that had almost sideswiped them the finger.

Traffic eased up shortly afterward and they arrived at Dr. Morimoto's a few minutes after the appointed time. Since the doctor himself was running late (no big surprise there), their lateness wasn't disruptive, for which Shuichi was thankful.

When Dr. Morimoto walked into the examining room to which they'd been shown, he told Eiri, "Say ahh."

All that came out was a guttural squeak. Talking was painful and the effort was reflected in Eiri's grimace.

"I'm sorry, can you open your mouth wider? I know it hurts."

Shuichi couldn't look Eiri in the eye. If he did, he'd die of laughter. He knew from personal experience – very _personal_ experience – that under normal circumstances, Eiri had no trouble opening his mouth.

Shuichi told himself to get a grip. Thinking about that was distracting and was _not _going to help Eiri get better. If thinking about it was distracting, actually doing it was out of the question until Eiri was well again, which was just another reason to make sure he followed the doctor's instructions, whether he wanted to or not.

Once he finished examining his nose and throat, the doctor took Eiri's temperature. Eiri's breathing was so labored, he couldn't grip the thermometer with his lips the way he normally would. This sent Shuichi off on the same tangent as the examination of Eiri's throat had, and for a second he smiled remembering past moments of carnal bliss…

The doctor's announcement that Eiri's temperature was forty degrees Celsius [1] abruptly ended Shuichi's reverie. Eiri was practically burning up! He had to physically restrain himself from hurtling across the room, grabbing a paper towel, running cold water over it, and applying it to his lover's fevered forehead. Maybe when they got home he could press a cool damp washcloth against Eiri's pale skin.

He'd offer to kiss Eiri to make it better, but Eiri was probably too sick and achy to welcome that kind of attention. His lack of interest in sex or cuddling the past couple of days had been a clear tipoff that something was seriously wrong. He'd shooed Shuichi away with alternate threats to throttle him for badgering him when he was obviously in no shape to engage in any physical activity and expressions of a desire that he not pass his illness along to Shuichi. For his part, Shuichi was willing to take that risk, but the band had rehearsals and a schedule to follow that he couldn't willfully disregard.

When the doctor listened to Eiri's heart and lungs with his stethoscope, Eiri winced and would have complained about the coldness of the metal part of the stethoscope if his throat weren't so sore and raw. As it was, Shuichi answered half the doctor's questions because it was painful both for Eiri to speak and for everyone else to listen to him.

After more prying, poking, and hemming and hawing, the doctor left the room and Eiri was allowed to remove the gown he'd reluctantly worn and put his own clothes back on. He'd muttered a complaint about the gown when they'd first entered the examining room so softly and unintelligibly that only Shuichi was aware that he was complaining about it. He just didn't have the energy he normally had to bitch about it.

When Dr. Morimoto returned, he told Eiri, "You have an acute case of bronchitis. You need to rest, drink lots of fluids, use a humidifier, and above all else, lay off the cigarettes."

He gave him prescriptions for an antibiotic, a cough suppressant, and an expectorant that he could fill at the pharmacy on the first floor and told him to use acetaminophen to reduce his fever. That was a relief because Shuichi didn't want to have to drag Eiri to a pharmacy before going home.

They shuffled off to the elevator bank. Eiri leaned against the wall of the elevator as it descended to the first floor. He sat in one of the chairs meant for customers waiting for their prescriptions to be filled while Shuichi waited with nervous impatience. Shuichi checked the bag to make sure they'd received all of the prescribed medication and then dialed the cab company, hoping the taxi would show up quickly so they didn't have to stand in the doorway too long, as Eiri looked droopy and miserable.

After what felt like an interminable wait, the taxi pulled up to the door to whisk them back to their apartment. In the meantime, Shuichi had tried, not entirely successfully, to prop up the much taller Eiri against his body while they stood together near the doorway.

Shuichi ran around the back of the taxi and helped Eiri out of the vehicle as best he could when the taxi arrived in front of their building. He guided Eiri into the elevator and unlocked the door to the apartment, though it took him a few tries. When they got inside, he tossed the bag with the prescriptions in it on the kitchen table and took Eiri's coat.

Eiri shuffled off to the bedroom, groaning as he stretched out on the bed, where he was surrounded by tissues and tissue boxes, and pulled the comforter over himself. Sleep was nearly impossible when he could only breathe through his mouth, which also made his throat hurt more. Not being able to voice his complaints about his condition made it that much more unbearable.

Shuichi bustled into the room bearing a glass of water, the first dose of medication, and some crackers, frowning in concentration so as not to drop or spill anything. After handing Eiri the glass and staying long enough to make sure he swallowed the pills, Shuichi walked back into the kitchen where the water for Eiri's tea was boiling. He steeped the herbal tea that was a traditional remedy for sore throats for the length of time Eiri preferred and carried the mug to the bedroom. Eiri had finished the crackers and was lying on his side facing away from him.

Shuichi gently brushed back the hair that obscured Eiri's eyes. They were clouded, not as bright and vibrant as they usually were. Eiri watched him but didn't react as Shuichi leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, leaving the tea on the nightstand, then stepped back and walked away.

Eventually the medication kicked in and Eiri slept dreamlessly and without the tossing and turning that had gone hand in hand with the illness.

Even though he didn't really want to, Shuichi phoned Tohma shortly after he'd gotten Eiri settled to tell him the outcome of the visit to the doctor and to ask for time off in which to nurse Eiri back to health.

"He's got bronchitis?" Tohma asked irritably when Shuichi was finally connected with him. "How did that happen?"

Shuichi could sense the frown on Tohma's face just from his inflection. Damn it, when would Tohma realize that not everything bad that happened to Eiri was Shuichi's fault?

"He smokes cigarettes, works all hours, and doesn't take care of himself," Shuichi shot back with some asperity. "He's a big boy. It's not like I can watch him twenty-four hours a day and make sure he takes care of his health. You know how stubborn he is!"

Tohma backed off a little bit after that outburst. "Let's not argue about it, ne? So what does the doctor have him taking?"

Shuichi ticked off the list of medications the doctor had prescribed or, in the case of acetaminophen, told Eiri to take. He also told Tohma about the rest of the doctor's advice: to rest, drink lots of fluids, use a humidifier, and lay off the cigarettes.

"This would be a good opportunity for him to quit smoking," Tohma said thoughtfully.

Shuichi snorted. "How likely do you think that is? That's one of the reasons I want time off. If I'm not around to monitor him, he'll smoke as much as ever."

Tohma made a noise of agreement. "What about the humidifier, Shindou-san? I don't think Eiri owns one."

"I was going to buy one," Shuichi replied.

"How were you going to do that without leaving Eiri alone in the apartment?" Tohma asked.

"I don't know," Shuichi said, defensively. "I guess I thought maybe I could order it by phone or over the internet."

"Relax," Tohma said, "I didn't mean it as a criticism. It was a preface to my offering to have one delivered to the apartment."

"Oh," Shuichi said, feeling a little silly. No matter what his opinion was of Tohma's relationship with Eiri, he couldn't deny that the man actually cared about Eiri. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you, and it would help a lot."

Tohma chuckled. "I'm glad I can be of help to both of you. I'll send my assistant out to find one right away and it should be there in a few hours. Take whatever time you need off until Eiri is feeling better."

Shuichi said good-bye, happy that someone else was taking care of procuring a humidifier and that Tohma had agreed to let him stay home to take care of Eiri without having to argue with him about it.

* * *

After a few days of waiting on Eiri hand and foot, Shuichi was overjoyed the morning Eiri got out of bed unassisted and went to the kitchen to get something to drink. He was less overjoyed to discover him making coffee and lighting up a cigarette.

"You're gonna kill your stomach drinking coffee so soon. And it's not good for your throat. Tea would be better."

"I'll do as I fucking please, thanks."

"And you're not supposed to be—"

"Fuck off and die."

Despite the sentiment and the defiance, Shuichi smiled.

"What are you grinning at, you moron?"

"Nothing," Shuichi said, happy that things were starting to return to normal. He called K to let him know he'd be coming in that day after all.

[1] Equivalent to 104 degrees Fahrenheit.

As always, thanks to HawkClowd for the awesome beta-fu. I touched this last, so any remaining errors or oddities are all mine.


End file.
